


A Bad Day

by Dreamsinlilac



Series: Drill Bits & Pieces [2]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Family, Fluff, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsinlilac/pseuds/Dreamsinlilac
Summary: When it's been a bad day sometimes you need to take yourself out of the situation so you can reflect and realise all the goodness you have in your life.





	

Everyone has them. “One of those days”, that’s what people say. But when it’s you, when you’re the one feeling annoyed, agitated, useless, when you want nothing more than to lock yourself away and let the emotions wash over you it’s hard to remember that you’re not alone. 

But you can’t lock yourself away, you have responsibilities, a job, a family, you can’t close yourself off no matter how much you may want to. But you can take yourself away, just for a short time. 

And so you walk. It’s raining but that’s alright, it seems appropriate. The rain mingles with your tears as you walk from the castle where you work and live part time. You walk down the well worn path to the sleepy village, thankful that the weather seems to be keeping everyone else indoors. You walk in circles, knowing that already you’re soaked through but that you’re not ready to go back yet. 

The walking is helping, allowing you to rationalise your thoughts, to reflect on today, a day that started off badly and just seemed to get worse. 

The girls at the school, they’re young. Only teenagers, you remind yourself. They’re away from their families, living in this limbo of school and home and it’s only natural that some days a mix of hormones, high jinx and cabin fever will make them seem more trying than usual. You wanted to protect them, to stop them from getting hurt but as you think back on your raised voice, your annoyance clear for everyone to see, you feel guilty, knowing you could have handled things differently. 

This leads you to think of your own children, those clever, gorgeous, energetic girls who, as much as you may want to convince yourself otherwise, are not angels. The younger ones will play up as they did today, too much energy combined with an eagerness to explore and to learn. You never want them to lose that, you want them to grow and to develop into their own little incredible selves. Sometimes you just wish they would be a little bit quieter as they did so. 

You think of your oldest child, how sometimes she’s too hard on herself. She wants things to be perfect. Her art, her schoolwork, even her appearance. You want to tell her that she’s talented, clever and so beautiful she takes your breath away but some days, like today, she just doesn’t seem to want to believe you. 

That won’t stop you though, you never want your own bad days to bring them down. You always want them to know that you’re there, that you adore them, that you will listen to their problems, just listen if that’s what they want because you love them so much.

Just as you love their other mother. Your wife, your partner who gave you that look earlier on, the look that said, “You go and get your head straight, I’ll be the parent now.” As you walk you realise that just as your daughter did to you, you brushed off the support that was so willingly offered. You chose your words badly, snapping rather than opening up. You left rather than fall into the arms of the woman who wanted to hold you until these feelings faded away.

And then you cry again, a mixture of shame at how you acted, combined with a strange feeling of relief. It’s not you alone against the world, it’s you, the plural you. And it’s time to go home. 

The walk back is faster, no more dawdling, you need to get home. As you walk through the long hallway you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you look like a drowned rat. Knowing you can’t face your family like this you walk past the door to the sitting room, stopping for a moment to listen to the sound of a soft voice telling a much loved story. You smile as you enter the bedroom, the smile widens as you see the brushed cotton pyjamas laid out on the bed, a bottle of lavender shower oil alongside them and a note telling you that when you’re ready, they are waiting for you.

The shower is quick but the water is perfect. It takes away the chill and combined with the oil relaxes you while simultaneously lifting your spirits. You dry yourself and dress, pausing for just a second before you cross the threshold into the room next door where your family is waiting. 

On entering you are immediately greeted by two little girls running to hug you, to tell you that they love you. You look into their eyes, in one case seeing your own looking back at you, in the other the eyes of their mother. They look troubled and you kneel down, press your lips softly against theirs, feel the smiles on their faces and hold them close to you, drinking in their sweet scents and the feeling of happiness they give you. 

You’re aware that someone else wants a hug, wants to tell you something important and as the words are whispered in your ear your heart swells, a warm feeling runs through your body and you hold your teenage daughter closer, telling her that you feel the same way, you always will. 

After more hugs and kisses your children are leaving, the youngest two following their big sister who tells you that she will look after them while someone else looks after you. They say goodnight, promise to see you in the morning and tell you again that they love you. 

Both of you. 

And then you’re alone with your love. She looks at you from her place on the couch where she has sat since you came back, saying nothing except some whispered words to the girls before they went to bed. 

You open your mouth to apologise, to blurt out everything that’s being going around in your head but a simple look tells you that the words aren’t needed. Arms open and this time you accept the offer, feeling tears run down your cheeks again as you crawl into the warm embrace. 

“It’s okay, I have you, I’m here.”, she tells you as she rocks you gently.

“I, I ….” You try to explain what caused this. Why today, a boring Thursday in November had you feeling this way but the words aren’t coming easily, you can’t quite explain yourself. 

“Shhh, I understand.”

And she does, you know this. You’ve both had these days in the past, will probably have them again in the future but you’ll get through them because you have each other. 

You press closer, marvelling yet again at how well you fit together despite the difference in your heights and shapes. You smile against her shoulder, thinking that this proves that you were made for each other. 

It’s getting late, you should be going to bed but for now you just want to stay where you are, wrapped in the arms of your wife, covered by a beloved blanket and enjoying the soft touches that say so much more than any words could. 

Yes, everyone had “one of those days” but as you lie in the almost dark room you can only hope that everyone also had some version of what you have, because that’s what makes days like these bearable.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of pretty rubbish days caused this story to pop into my mind as I was driving to work this morning and I couldn't do anything else until I'd written it. I’ve left it deliberately ambiguous as to who it is who is having “one of those days” so please feel free to decide for yourself. 
> 
> And if you too have been or are feeling like this I hope that you too also have something or someone to make it a bit easier to bear.


End file.
